I Still Love You
by lannistersdebt
Summary: "I still love you," he said in return. He looked back to the jars of ingredients that lined the cabinet. As he scanned them he felt her slip her hand into his, their fingers lacing together, and give a gentle squeeze.


Written for QLFC Round 9.  
Wigtown Wanderers  
Beater 1  
Prompt: Queen's "Love of My Life"  
Line Used: I still love you  
Additional Prompts: [lyric] So much to do in one lifetime (from I Want It All), [word] drugs

* * *

Dawn was breaking and he was still awake. The soft light of early morning trickled into the bedroom from a large gap in the drapes they'd forgotten to close completely, casting shadows on Narcissa's face. She was beautiful day or night but perhaps more so today than ever before, and he felt his breath catch for a moment as his eyes followed the contours of her face. This was the last time he'd see her like this. By the end of the coming day she would no longer be a Black.

Her breathing was deep and relaxed, all the muscles in her face and body relaxed. Not a twitch, not a spasm, barely a movement from her breasts rising and falling, so deep was her oblivion to the world. Hers was a body entirely at ease, preparing for the day ahead. In a way, he envied her.

With a sigh, he twisted to lay on his back again. He wanted to sleep, to escape, but that felt wrong somehow—a betrayal he could not commit, no matter how much he longed to. For now, he supposed, he would appreciate the time he had left with her. Tonight he could take a draught for sleep.

* * *

The ceremony had been as grand as anything the Malfoys hosted was—which wasto say, exceedingly so. Lucius had looked sharp in his dress robes, so dark grey they were almost black, and Narcissa was simply resplendent in her dress. Severus remembered helping her choose it months ago, how she'd almost left the shop and then decided to try one more dress. She'd stepped back into the viewing room, and he could tell, even before she saw herself in it, that _this _was the one. The neckline fell just below her shoulders, beautifully framing her face, neck, collarbone and shoulders—there was no train.

The couple was coming toward him now, just before the reception, their faces each alight with the joy that so many of the newlyweds seemed to have. Severus made sure his own face looked pleasant enough, though inside he was anything but happy.

"Severus! We can't thank you enough for all you've done—no, for all you do." Lucius slipped his arm around his bride's waist and smiled at him. "I just wanted to remind you, before everyone begins celebrating too much, there's an open bar...and we've a meeting in the morning."

Narcissa remained silent, her eyes on his face, and for some reason that Severus didn't understand, he felt he should stay quiet as well. He settled for a nod and stepped back to let the pair lead the way out to the gardens of Malfoy Manor.

The reception went well until, all too soon, Severus felt a slight nudge to his side and looked over to see Lucius looking at him. With a sigh, he stood and cleared his throat. He held his wine glass about waist level, took a deep breath, and began. "I am delighted to have been asked to propose a toast to the bride. I consider it a privilege and honor, especially since I have known Lucius and Narcissa for some time. Narcissa's beauty, charm, intelligence and many other assets have long endeared her to family and friends alike. Her handsome groom also has many outstanding qualities, and they compliment each other perfectly. If there is one thing they have in common it is good taste. There is so much to do in one lifetime and if anyone can make sure it gets done, it is Narcissa Malfoy—so, Lucius, do keep that in mind."

He paused and raised his glass to eye level. "May you find joy in each and every day. To Lucius and Narcissa." Almost as one, the audience drank, and then Severus took his seat again.

Later he settled down in an abandoned chair at a table near the back of the seating area. Most of the other attendees were dancing or talking among one another. A few asked him to join them as they wandered toward the dance floor, but he was in no mood for it.

Perhaps half an hour passed before he heard someone else approach. He turned in his chair to tell them to bloody leave him alone but stopped short when he saw it was Narcissa. Her cheeks were flushed from dancing and her eyes were bright, but he couldn't manage to care much. He looked back to one of the fountains nearby without saying a word. He could practically feel Narcissa's annoyance.

"Seems that everyone's having a good time. Lucius's parents do know how to host, don't they?" She slipped into the chair across from him and gratefully accepted a glass of white wine a house elf brought over. They'd already learned her preference, it seemed. "You've certainly enjoyed partaking in the bar," she said with a gesture toward the empty glasses around the table.

"Might as well enjoy _something,_ and drinks seemed preferable to the drugs your sister and her friends brought." He shifted his gaze to her at that point, and he knew she wished he hadn't. Gone was any sort of happiness or, really, friendliness. He was drunk, angry, and hurt, and even though he didn't want to hurt _her_, he couldn't seem to stop the words coming out of his mouth. "Although on second thought, maybe they would be worth a go. It'd be bloody nice to stop thinking."

"We both knew that this marriage was happening." Her voice was gentle as if that'd do anything to make the situation better. "You know how I feel about you, about him...all of this. I wish it didn't have to be this way."

His eyes flashed. "You came to my flat last night after we decided two weeks ago that we needed to stop. I knew better, yet I didn't say no. And _now _you want to apologize."

"Severus…"

"No. Don't." He shook his head. "I let you in last night, and I took you to bed. I couldn't sleep, I could only think, and even when the sky began to lighten, there was really only one thing I had thought about." He stood up slightly unsteadily and turned to go but paused. "I still love you."

* * *

The flat was dark, the curtains drawn in a vain attempt to filter the orange glow of the lights illuminating the street outside. Severus glanced at the clock he'd hung on the wall after moving here, the clock he used to track the hours when he couldn't sleep. Even with the lights off he could read it. Three in the morning. He'd been back for nearly four hours and hadn't slept in nearly twenty four, up early to shop for ingredients and work on writing a paper and then out late on the Dark Lord's latest raid.

He sighed wearily and rubbed his face, wishing he could sink into oblivion for a few hours. He had plenty of sleeping draughts he could take but he preferred not to, and he had to be up in a few hours anyway. If he took one now he'd regret it later, and he knew it'd still be a restless sleep.

Outside the pitter-patter of rain grew stronger, beating against the panes of glass, morphing in his head to the sound of the pleading cries of Dumbledore's supporters they'd killed that night. The back of his throat burned, and he sat up and reached for the glass of water he kept on the rickety nightstand by his bed. A surprising number of the dead had been women, and as he walked among them in Voldemort's wake, he'd scanned their faces, looking for familiar features beneath a layer of dust and rubble from the shops that had been destroyed. Lily had not been among them, but a blond woman with aristocratic features had been, and just as soon as his heart had calmed down it had sped into overdrive again. She was not Narcissa; the swell of the woman's stomach guaranteed that. But for that, she could have been.

And that was what was keeping him awake.

The wind shifted and the rain hit his window from another angle, sounding like the gentle tapping of a quiet knock. It stopped and then came again, and this time he was sure it was an actual knock. He stood and slipped from the bedroom to the sitting room and wand in hand, opened the door.

Narcissa stood there, shivering slightly from the rain, her face pale and her eyes rimmed with red. "I'm sorry to come at this hour…I didn't know where else to go. I hope I didn't wake you."

He didn't want her here, where she hadn't come since the eve of her wedding. Where his last memories of her were doing what they no longer could, padding around in one of his shirts, pouring coffee for them one last time and bringing it back to the bed where she curled up against him while he read. But it was the middle of the night, it was raining, and, judging from the slight tremor to her voice, something had happened. So he stepped back to let her in and hoped that whatever it was, he wouldn't regret the decision.

They sat at the kitchen table a few minutes later, a cup of coffee in each of their hands and a blanket around the witch's shoulders. She wasn't shivering anymore but Severus could tell from the way she was gripping her mug that the rain wasn't the only reason for her appearance. He settled back in his chair and took a drink before he said anything at all. "What is it?"

"Me. There's something wrong with me." She stared down at the table. "I thought that we were successful this time, that everything would be fine." She paused and when she spoke again, her voice was thick with fresh tears. "But this morning there was blood on the sheets and now Lucius won't even look at me."

"You should see a healer." He looked at her evenly, schooling his face so that it gave nothing away. Inside he felt the punch, same as last time. Shock, mixed with anger, hurt, and something else he couldn't quite identify. She wanted a child so badly. And despite his feelings, he couldn't keep his concern for her out of his voice. "They can give you answers."

"You can too. You know enough about things that you practically are one." She took a sip of her coffee and timidly looked up at him just in time to see the corner of his mouth raise in slight amusement.

"Hardly. I study potions, Cissa. Not people." He watched her face and was tempted to slip into her mind, to see _exactly _what it was that had happened throughout the day. "Which is precisely why you should go see someone else."

She shook her head. "Lucius doesn't want anyone to know. All the other wives...they haven't had to go. Please, Severus." She looked at him fully then, her eyes and tone both pleading. They'd been down this road already. "I want to be a mother."

"I know."

"You brew all my other potions, whatever they are. Lucius won't know what this one is, but as long as it comes from you he'll trust it's safe for me. _Please._ Will you brew me a fertility potion?"

He didn't respond, so she took another drink and they let the silence between them grow heavier. She had asked him a few times before this, but had not been so direct since the first time. He'd said no then and every time after.

"Severus?" Narcissa reached across the table to put her hands over his, and he let her, cursing himself for how much he craved even that small amount of contact. "The child….it would be Lucius's, obviously. But if you brew this for me, it will still come into existence with your help."

Something inside him broke at that, and he knew he was going to say yes and give her what she wanted despite how it made him feel.

"Fine." He whispered it and stood immediately, moving to look through the cabinets on their right. "It will take a few days for me to brew. I'll need to go out and get ingredients unless you have them at the Manor. I've got ashwaganda, motherwort, chaste berry tree…."

"You mean it? You'll do it?" There was the sound of a chair scraping the floor and then she was there next to him. At his nod she smiled radiantly. "Thank you."

"I still love you," he said in return. He looked back to the jars of ingredients that lined the cabinet. As he scanned them he felt her slip her hand into his, their fingers lacing together, and give a gentle squeeze.

When she left, the sky was lighter with the coming day, and he could make out the street outside his window. Everything was the same, only grayer and with softer edges.

* * *

In October he got an owl. The parchment it delivered had two words on it, written in thick black lines.

_We're pregnant!_

He tried to pretend the ache in his chest was only happiness.

* * *

"You've had nine _months _to find and employ a private healer, Lucius." Severus paced the length of the Malfoy library, frowning. "It's not as though you didn't know this was going to happen. What were you thinking?"

"Clearly, I wasn't," the other wizard drawled and then shrugged. "I should have made arrangements. I didn't. But I'm trying to remedy that _now_. Why can't you just do it?"

That brought Severus up short. "What?"

"She's asked for you already. You've got the skills to help her as best as you can. Why can't you do it?"

"Oh for fuck's sake." Severus practically growled as he whipped around toward the door. "I'm a _potioneer_."

Yet they both knew he'd do what he could.

Several hours later, Severus leaned forward in the armchair he'd moved to the head of the bedside and watched Narcissa and the baby in her arms. All seven pounds, ten ounces, and eighteen inches of him. He didn't particularly care for children, but this one was an exception, and as he watched the tiny mouth yawn, he felt an unexpected wave of fierce protectiveness. Slowly, his gaze drifted from Draco to Narcissa, and he was surprised to see her already watching him, smiling softly.

"Thank you for everything," she whispered.

"What half decent friend wouldn't help their friends give birth?" His mouth twitched slightly and then he actually smiled when she laughed. "Although I would appreciate it if the two of you would learn to actually use a healer and quit substituting me instead."

"We should," she laughed. "Would you like to hold him?" Once he nodded, she told him how to support the baby's head and the rest of his body and then gingerly placed her son in his arms.

Despite the knowledge that Narcissa was watching him gaze at Draco, Severus allowed his face to show what he felt. It was almost overwhelming, the fondness and devotion he inexplicably felt for the sleeping infant. He just hoped she couldn't see the one thing he fought to shove deeper inside himself: a longing for what might have been.

"Isn't he perfect? After everything..." she hesitated. "Severus, without you, we wouldn't have our Draco. I thought it only right to ask that you be his godfather."

There was that familiar sharp pain in his heart again, but an overwhelming amount of warmth too. He was surprised at how much it affected him to hear her words. "I would be honored."

"Are you sure?" Narcissa asked softly. "After all we've been through, I was afraid it would just be too much to ask."

Severus looked down at the sleeping baby in his arms and shook his head. "I still love you. But now I love him, too."


End file.
